


Silence is Not Golden

by CelestialVoid



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Claudia Stilinski Feels, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dead Claudia Stilinski, Drabble, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, One Shot, Short One Shot, Sick Stiles, Sick Stiles Stilinski, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 14:10:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20949629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialVoid/pseuds/CelestialVoid
Summary: Stiles is sick. He’s lost his voice and Derek thinks it’d be a relief to not listen to Stiles ramble on for hours on end, but he’s wrong.





	Silence is Not Golden

Stiles hated being sick.

He was curled up in bed, wrapped in a cacoon of blankets, and laid still as he drifted in and out of sleep, only to be woken by a fit of coughing or a congested nose that made it impossible to breathe.

His bedside table was covered in bottles of cough syrup, throat lozenges, antihistamines, aspirin, bottles of water, and boxes of tissues. Derek had set a waste bin beside the bed for Stiles to toss his used tissues into.

Stiles phone lay on the mattress by his pillow, the screen lit up with colour and light as a video played. The volume was down low, and the quiet murmur of sound helped lull him to sleep.

He stirred at the sound of his bedroom door opening. He craned his neck and looked over the edge of his blanket, his eyes heavy and lethargic as he tried to blink to clear his vision.

His eyes slowly focused on the man in the doorway.

He was dressed in a blue-grey Henley and a pair of jeans. His pale aventurine eyes were full of empathy—not pity—as he looked at the young man. A kind smile turned up the corners of his mouth as he met Stiles’ gaze.

“How are you feeling?” Derek asked quietly.

Stiles let out a pathetic groan, his head falling back against his pillow.

“Can I get you anything?”

Stiles opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a wheezy rasp. No words.

His eyes flew open wide as he bolted upright, his head spinning.

Derek rushed over to his side, catching him before he fell out of bed.

Stiles blinked heavily, his head spinning. He swallowed against the bile that rose into his throat, waiting for the world to stop moving before looking up at Derek.

The man looked back at him, his composure broken as worry filled his face.

Stiles opened his mouth again and tried to speak, but nothing came out.

“Are you alright?” Derek asked.

Stiles shook his head, trying one more time to say something.

Derek raised his eyebrow. “You’ve lost your voice?”

Stiles nodded, his stomach twisting in knots and his chest growing tighter.

“Stiles Stilinski has lost his voice,” Derek said, a hint of humour in his voice. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

Stiles pulled away from Derek, feeling hot tears well in his eyes, blurring his vision. He pulled the blanket up over his shoulder and rolled onto his side, turning his back to Derek.

“Hey,” Derek said softly. “I’m just teasing.”

Stiles kept his back to Derek, sniffing as his tears seeped into his pillows.

“Stiles,” Derek whispered. “What’s wrong?”

Stiles didn’t turn to face him. He reached behind himself and grabbed his phone, shutting the app playing the video and opening another one. He began to type something before tossing his phone over his shoulder at Derek.

Derek picked up Stiles’ phone, turning it over.

It was a website.

Stiles had scrolled down to the bottom of a table and highlighted one of the rows.

**Late-Stage Dementia (Stage 7)—Severe Cognitive Decline. No ability to speak or communicate.**

Derek felt his heart drop, his stomach twisting as a wave of guilt and regret washed over him.

“Stiles,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry… I didn’t… I didn’t realise…”

Stiles’ shoulders were shaking as he sniffed back his sobs.

In that moment, he realised how much he missed Stiles’ voice—missed his endless rambling and the nicknames. The thought of never hearing that voice again made his heart ache.

He set the phone down on the bedside table and climbed over Stiles’ huddled body. He laid down next to him, pulling the young man close against his chest. He felt Stiles’ warm tears soak through his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Derek whispered. “I know nothing I can say will take away the pain or the memories, and it doesn’t change what happened to your mum, but I promise, you’re going to be okay. Your voice will come back and until it does you can use your phone or a notepad and write what you want to say. I’ll make some tea that’ll help too.”

Stiles didn’t make a sound, he just nuzzled his face into Derek’s chest, his hands trembling as he Derek’s shirt into his fist and held it tight.

Derek pull Stiles closer, pressing a tender kiss to the crown of his head. He listened as Stiles’ breathing slowed after a while and he drifted off to sleep in Derek’s arms.

Derek craned his neck, looking down at Stiles’ face.

“I love you,” he said quietly.

Stiles shifted slightly in his sleep, curling up closer against Derek’s side. He made a quiet noise before drifting back asleep.

“I know,” Derek whispered, a small smile playing across Derek’s lips as he rested his head atop the tousled mess of Stiles’ hair.

**Author's Note:**

> celestialvoid-fanfiction.tumblr.com


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